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... of us hate her guts. Sucking up to her would be siding with the enemy!”

“Clearspring,” Pontifex Flame said, “you’re really acting muddle-headed. If she's the only one who has the Crown Prince’s ear, what else are we supposed to do? Do you really want to bring about the destruction of our church? The Flame Clan has been building up this organization for thousands of years. Do you realize that, back in the martial arts competition, not a single of the Great Sages did anything about the Crow ...

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[WARNING THIS NOVEL IS A SEX NOVEL WHICH INCLUDES SEX CONTENT][Author Note: I have changed the story entirely]Arthur's head hurt like crazy as he woke up. He kept his eyes closed, rubbing his temples and feeling a super comfy bed under him - definitely not his cheap mattress back home.“What the hell...?” he mumbled as he finally looked around.He was in some rich person's bedroom with a fancy four-poster bed and red silk sheets. Sunlight came through pretty stained glass windows, making red patterns on the marble floor.Everything screamed royalty - fancy mirrors, portraits of hunting scenes, and even a painting of a barely-dressed goddess that seemed to be watching him.“How did I get here?” Arthur wondered, getting out of bed. “I definitely drank too much at Mark's party last night”The last thing he remembered was almost getting hit by a car while crossing the street.Looking in a mirror, he got another shock. He didn't look like himself at all! Instead of being skinny with acne scars, he now had muscles, clear skin with just one cool scar on his jaw, with a reddish brown hair, and green eyes.“Damn, I'm hot,” he said, touching the scar.For a moment, he remembered his old life. He pushed up his glasses. Kids made fun of him. Jessica laughed at him when he asked her out. “Like I'd be with a loser like you,” she told him.Suddenly Arthur realized what was happening. “I've been transported to another world! Just like in those stories online!”He spun around excitedly. “I must be someone important here. This is gonna be so cool! Watch out, fantasy world, your new hero has arrived!”Right then, blue text appeared floating in front of him:[System Starting Up...][Host Found: Prince Arthur Lionheart][Soul Check: Person from Another World][Magic Type: Incubus Powers Activated]“Incubus?” Arthur asked in shock. “Like, those demons that seduce people?”[That's right. Your family's magic has changed because of your Earth soul's hidden desires. Congrats on finding your true potential.]“Can I change it? I want to be a cool battle wizard or something!”[Not possible. Your soul has permanently connected to the Incubus powers. Accept it - your charm is your weapon, attraction is your shield.]“Fuck,” Arthur groaned.[Exactly. The more sexual intimacy you have, the stronger you'll become.]Arthur's eye twitched. “Very funny. Just... tell me what I can actually do.”

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Betrayed and condemned to death by the very family he served, Vikir, the hound of the Baskervilles, refuses to accept his fate.

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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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